


Molly Hooper

by tealeavesandmoonlight



Series: Anatomy of Attraction [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Drugs, F/M, Molly is adorable and lovely, poor Mitchell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-13
Updated: 2012-04-13
Packaged: 2017-11-03 13:51:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/382025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tealeavesandmoonlight/pseuds/tealeavesandmoonlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly Hooper hated Sherlock Holmes when she first met him. This is the story of how that changed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Molly Hooper

Molly Hooper was a quiet girl. She was never the type of girl who wandered around in sparkly tops and tall heels, dragging men’s attention as if by magnet, effortlessly working a crowded room, and always knowing the right words to say. She loved science, jumpers, kittens, and cozy nights in her flat watching rom-coms and eating pasta. Men never really seemed to go for her type and, for the most part, Molly was okay with that. There were more important things in her life than a relationship really.

Sometimes though in her head Molly would create an alternate self. This alternate Molly would say the things she was a afraid to say, do the things she was afraid to do, and be the person she was afraid to be. Alternate Molly was brash and unapologetic; the opposite of everything the real Molly Hooper seemed to be. Fortunately though, Molly was always glad to come back to being herself.

Sherlock Holmes was exactly the type of man Molly Hooper had always avoided. He was gorgeous, flashy, elegant, quick-witted and sharp-tongued. He knew things about everyone and was never kind unless it benefitted him. Molly knew all of this and from the first moment she met Sherlock she detested him. His arrogance was staggering, and every word he said left timid little Molly Hooper breathless with rage.

How did this all change, you ask? Well it changed when Sherlock solved a case that led to the recovery of Mitchell Hooper. Mitchell was young when their parents died, and despite the kind influence of their Aunt and Uncle he grew up wild. By age 15 Mitchell already had the rap sheet of a hardened convict. The crimes ranged from petty theft to assault and grand theft. Molly tried everything she could to help her young brother, but it seemed as if his descent was inevitable. One day Mitchell got into something that he couldn’t handle and he disappeared, the only clue was a message he had left on Molly’s mobile.

“Molls I’m sorry for the things I’ve done to you and Aunt Jenny and Uncle Harold. I know you lot tried your best; it really wasn’t your fault what happened. I want you all to know that I love you. I don’t think I’ll see you again so this is goodbye. Thank you for trying to save me. Bury me with Mum and Da, okay Molls? Goodbye.”

Molly had known exactly where to turn when she received the call. Much as she was loath to admit it Sherlock was the only one who could save Mitchell. When she had gone to him he had been surprisingly kind, in his own way. His factual attitude didn’t bother Molly; she appreciated facts herself and if they could save Mitchell from whatever was wrong, well then she would be hard pressed to feel anything other than gratitude.

It took Sherlock two days to find her brother. He was tied up in an abandoned warehouse, bruises and cuts covered his too-thin body. He was dehydrated and barely conscious, frail limbs shaking visibly, his body deprived of the usual drugs he pumped into his system. Molly and Sherlock both knew the regular police couldn’t be involved with this. Mitchell wasn’t a white-souled saint and prison would do him no good.

Sherlock had been surprisingly gentle with Mitchell. He had helped Molly get him to her apartment and into her bed. Once they settled him Sherlock told Molly what he had discovered about her young brother.

Mitchell Hooper had run up big drug debts with his dealers. Unable to get a job, Mitchell began turning tricks in the less-than-savory parts of London. He had a tidy sum of money tucked away in the crummy flat he shared with another junkie rent boy, but one day one of the men followed him home. The guy apparently didn’t have much money himself and, figuring a boy as pretty as Mitchell must be doing fairly well, decided to break in and rob the place. He took everything Mitchell had been saving. Mitchell tried to explain to his dealers, tried to get a bit more time, but they could have cared less. They wanted the money. His dealers had apparently wanted him to help them hold up a small jewelry store to pay off his debts but Mitchell had refused and had tried to go to the police. They had caught wind of this and had decided Mitchell needed to be taught a lesson.

As Sherlock explained this his hands had tightened around his mug of tea, his face even paler than usual. It actually seemed to Molly that he cared. But that was impossible right? Sherlock Holmes didn’t care about anyone but himself. Apparently Molly’s confusion had been evident to Sherlock.

“Molly I know you don’t think much of me and I really don’t care usually but this is… different. Let me just say that I understand the position Mitchell was in better than I can convey with mere words.”

Molly knew of Sherlock’s past as a drug addict and it was as if that statement had started a film projector in her mind. She could picture a younger, dirtier, thinner Sherlock huddled up on a mattress, inserting needles in his arm, and letting men use his body for the money to fuel his habit. That Sherlock looked far different than the man she knew. It was if Molly’s opinion of Sherlock had done a 180 degree turn. She could see the hurt boy beneath the surface of the cruel man and she wanted to wrap him in blankets and love, to save the good heart inside the ice-box exterior. He was beautiful inside and out even if he didn’t realize it. She fell in love in that instant.

“Oh”

“Well yes I must be going now. Never mention this to anyone.” 

As the door slammed Molly sat there in wonder. He just needed someone to love him. If she could do that, be that person for him, there would be hope for him to become the man she now knew he could be. From that day on Molly Hooper was determined to win the heart of Sherlock Holmes.


End file.
